Dead-end purpose
by Astartist
Summary: In a London troubled by an excessive social divide, Clive wants revenge on his parents' killers. With a permanent hatred in him, he leads a complicated life, multiplies one-night stands and endlessly confronts the loneliness that makes him a victim of his own madness.
1. Chapter 1 - Their project

"The best is to do injustice without paying the penalty; the worst is to suffer it without being able to take revenge. Justice is a mean between these two extremes. People value it not because it is a good but because they are too weak to do injustice with impunity."

 **Plato, The Republic**

As Iris touched Clive's chest, she felt her heart beating wildly and put her gentle hand in the palm of his. The skin of Clive was rough, warm and sweated, as if it was trying to reflect his long years of loneliness and suffering. In his arms, the black-haired girl seemed happy because she was always wearing a naive little smile and her blue eyes were lighting up with enjoyment. To tease him, Iris played a few moments with his unruly locks on the back of his brown hair. Clive's eyes flickered feebly, and he groaned huskily, making Iris smile. Although he had a dull and tired looks, Clive knew very well how to appeal to women. Iris had immediately been charmed by his self-confidence and his flawless determination. At first glance, he was open to others, but Iris had seen in him a narrow-minded, disoriented and bighearted man. Suddenly, she grazed his naked body and kissed him softly. With a flutter of her lashes, Iris gazed profoundly at Clive — who was waking up — and greeted him.

"Good morning. Did you have a good sleep last night?"

Clive nonchalantly shook his shoulders before sighing deeply.

"You've received a letter from a man named Pharrell," she added. "As far as I remember, you dislike when people interfere in things that concern you… You see… I don't read it."

Clive trembled fearfully when hearing her tell the name of his colleague. He vaguely thanked Iris and seized abruptly the letter she gave to him. Lost in thought, Iris yearned after Clive. She had a strong desire to live as a couple with him, but she knew he had a lot of sexual relations with other girls. Completely sad about that, Iris whispered.

"It occurred to me that we could become more than friends or sexual partners, couldn't we?"

Busy reading the paper, Clive ignored the smile on Iris' face whereas she continued to speak in a low and quavering voice.

"Actually, I really don't know what we are," she murmured, with a little nervous laugh.

Absent-mindedly, Clive did not answer to Iris.

"Clive? What are you thinking of?" She asked him directly.

"Ten years ago, my parents were killed in an explosion which was caused by some thoughtless scientists," Clive suddenly interrupted. "I've decided to ask one of my colleagues in high places to look at the files, and he has just found the ones responsible for destroying my life."

"I don't know what to think of it… I mean… It's really sad."

In his dark sharp-eyes, there was a glint of rage. Clive frowned as he stared at her scornfully. Medias were all misleading information with an ominous interest… According to Clive, they are controlled by corrupted politicians and caused the worsening of society with all the technical advances they had brought in the world. Progress will always negatively affect the lives of people as well as Clive had noticed it a few years ago. Before the experiment which killed his parents, he had lived peacefully in a little quarter full of workers and hadn't been sad. Clive had always made the effort to smile without any hesitation even if the living conditions of his family had been uncomfortable and very poor… Suddenly, Clive stopped thinking about his old memories and swallowed when he remembered the names of his parents' killers.

"Thanks to a careful, thorough examination of the incident, he has discovered the truth behind my parents' death. It is beyond all question. The first one is a man we all know… Bill Hawks."

"The First Minister? Are you serious? Would it be possible for a man with a such fine presence, who planned on helping destitute children, to be an awful guy who killed your parents?"

"He's not the only one. There's a scientist who lives in a seedy flat. Dimitri Allen."

* * *

"You might have told me you never wanted to live with me!"

Iris desperately shouted at Clive with tears in her voice. The boy hastened to take out his lighter and his cigarette pack in order to light one of them. Under the stunned gaze of Iris, he inhaled a breath of nicotine and flippantly looked at her.

"I hoped for a miracle, but you'll always play the fool! Clive! I really like you," she boomed before falling to the ground. "And I know you're definitely clever. I'm afraid... Don't do that to me…"

"I've always wanted to be alone. If you had sufficiently paid attention to my expectations, we wouldn't be in a such mess."

Iris affectionately called out to Clive.

"We can be happy. All the time, you tell me you've no feelings, but it's an absurdity. You deserve a better life, and I can be helpful."

Loudly sighing though as he remembered the night he had lived with Iris, Clive marked an untrue smile on his face and quietly approached her.

"Do you know how you may help me?" He demanded with a seductive gaze and a captivating smile, which always made her cheerful. "Lay down on the head of the table and close your attractive eyes, my dear."

Iris had been using to his continual sarcastic remarks. She was now upset about Clive's behaviour, frowned and stepped back to see him better.

"I need more than a single sexual relation with you… Clive."

Clive nodded his head before indicating the front door of the house he had inherited from his adoptive mother, Lady Constance. Suddenly, he pushed Iris outside and grumbled.

"Get out of my home, Iris. I'm busy."

After that, he shut his door in Iris' face and returned on the couch where he began to cry. For such a long time, Clive Dove was obsessed by his desire for revenge. Obsessed with his resentment, he felt angry in a world of insecurity. Pharrell had told him that Dimitri Allen, a recluse scientist, was working in research for a time machine project. Thinking about the death of his parents, Clive attached importance to Dimitri's pastime. Travel through time was the perfect scenario to take the law into his own hands. He quickly glanced at a picture frame representing a brown-haired man and a purple-haired woman with round glasses. Employed by the Dove family a few years back, Cogg and Spring were the owners of a little clock shop on Midland Road in Baldwin. As they had been there for Clive after the unfair death of Constance, he liked them very much. Clive knew it was his once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and decided to dial their number on his black telephone.

"I'll make my dream come true." He suddenly broke in, with an air of inflexible calmness. "I've formulated a plan to rebuild London into something more solid and I really need you."

Spring was tired of seeing how Clive was able to destroy himself. Looking uneasily at her husband, she sighed and answered in a sad voice.

"You have a wild imagination, but you should face up to reality and abandon your idea of revenge."

"Don't call my project like that! I prefer thinking about it as justice."

"Truth will out, son." Cogg added. "Don't forget you're responsible for your actions. However, we are going to help you, no matter what you're doing."

"Thank you. This is very important to me."

* * *

In one of the famous quarters of London — Chinatown —, Clive rapidly crossed over the pagoda-shaped arches and found the blue front window that Pharrell had described to him. Without hesitation in front of the carved dragons of the golden facade, Clive entered the china store and smiled at an elderly person who was tidying dessert plates in a a cardboard box.

"Well hello!" He said, a bit stressed by the oppressive atmosphere of the room. "Is Dimitri Allen here?"

The quiet lady did not answer to Clive. She simply gave a faint scowl and indicated a spiral staircase before ignoring him again. Clive rolled his eyes, directly climbed and found a dilapidated blue door in a small aisle. At that moment, he hesitated, but finally decided to knock at the door. In response, a clearly gray-haired blue-eyed man came. He was wearing a white lab coat with a red rose on the left side, a black shirt under it and as a complement to that, he was equipped with a stylish white hat and a large gray scarf.

"Hello. Are you Dimitri Allen?"

The doubtful and piercing look of Dimitri did not really reassure Clive. Indeed, he was worried to confront his parents' killer and swallowed when he saw the scientist folding his arms.

"That's it. What do you want from me?"

It was him. With a strong desire for murder, Clive anxiously gived a pinched smile and scratched his nose before desperately snapped at Dimitri.

"I'm a newspaper journalist. I have to write an interesting article for my boss. Thanks to one of my police friends, I found Bill Hawks' name and yours in a file. You have to know that I really want him to go in jail. Of course I have job prospects but this article is very precious to me. I hate him. He despised my social class with no regard for our needs."

Amazed because he had never before spoken so much in his life, Clive suddenly stopped talking. Dimitri was overcome by tiredness and offered him to enter in his one-room apartment. Apparently, it was rather a small laboratory in disorder with scientific researches on the walls, some white kitchen units and a spring mattress on the floor. Dimitri had a lot of books, blank sheets and typewriter ribbons close to a plunger coffee pot. Full of cigarette butts, an ashtray still smoking was at the centre of a drop-leaf table. A sudden impulse to smoke, Clive asked him.

"Hey, do you have a light?"

Dimitri nodded his head and quickly gave him a lighter. Clive sat on a chair, as if it was his home and introduced the subject first.

"Let's see… Ten years before some people were killed in an explosion…"

"Don't write your article." Dimitri simply interrupted. "Do whatever you want, but Bill will not accept that passively."

"Bill? He was close to you, wasn't he?"

The tired-looking-eyes man breathed in deeply before looking straight at Clive.

"You said you hated the Prime Minister… But I hate him more than everyone else."

To his great surprise, Clive gaped at Dimitri. He was intrigued to learn the truth behind his parents' death and stopped pretending to write notes on his spiral-bound notebook.

"The file mentions an explosion, which was caused by a time machine that me, Claire, and Bill, had worked on. There were a lot of errors in the calculations we made but Bill wanted to go ahead with the experiment. Claire was chosen to be the first human subject for the test and just after all of that, she died."

A feeling of sadness came over him. Dimitri had seen Claire dying in his arms, unable to do anything… Every day he lived with his regrets and suffered alone.

"You love her, don't you?"

With tears in his voice, Dimitri nodded.

"I just want to go back to the day of the accident to save Claire."

"I can't understand what you feel," Clive scornfully lied. "Losing your true love certainly was a terrible thing. I'm really sorry."

Clive maliciously put a kind hand on his shoulder.

"We have a common hatred for the Prime Minister, don't we? Well, er… Maybe it's completely dumb, but please… Be my co-worker!"

Biting his lower lip because he hated himself for saying that, Clive hesitantly raised his right arm to shake hands with him.

"An idea just crossed my mind! I want him to lose his sense of reality. He had no regrets, so I think we could convince him to take part in a time machine demonstration in order to bring him back memories of the incident."

According to Dimitri, Clive was full of ideas, a bold and determined young man. With a nostalgic air, Dimitri envied and compared him to the obstinate boy he had been before the incident. He remembered he had anticipated so many projects, had wanted a peaceable life with Claire hoping she would abandoned Hershel… Lost in his thoughts, Dimitri reminded the current lives of his old classmates.

Hershel Layton — also called Professor Layton because he taught archaeology lessons to his students — had a solid reputation thanks to his puzzle-solving skills.

 _He succeeded in life._

In spite of himself, Don Paolo was renowned as a scientist of the highest order, becoming Hershel's arch-enemy.

 _He succeeded._

And Bill Hawks was now the corrupted Prime Minister of the United Kingdom.

 _Succeeded._

On the contrary, Dimitri stayed away from them, was an unknown scientist with a few wrinkles, which probably came from stress… But it wasn't important enough. Claire was still dead.

 _She failed in death._

"Everything is okay?" Clive tried to get some information about Dimitri's mental balance.

The young man got a broad smile out of him when he gasped in surprise. Dimitri was coming nearer to his new partner in order to shook his hands with him.

"I've nothing to lose and everything to gain by getting this done. We'll kidnap and get him desperate of his cowardice."

Giving free rein to his imagination, Dimitri wasn't suspicious of Clive and began to show a will motivation.

"I'll play the part of Alain Stahngun, a scientist who has decided to present a failed Time Machine."

"Alain Stahngun?" Clive demanded before raising an eyebrow.

"Before devoting myself to science, I used to write short stories. Alain Stahngun was my pen name."

Clive suddenly laughed at Dimitri. The scientist aroused a strong feeling of contempt in him. He was just so stupid and annoying.

After all, Dimitri had killed his parents ten years ago.


	2. Chapter 2 - Unsatisfied desire

Itching for a friend for ages, Dimitri discreetly hoped to establish a kind of father-son relationship with Clive. He forced himself to hide his feeling of joy. Filled with enthusiasm for their project, he went to the annex building of Gressenheller University where a renowned professor in science maintained an academic library. In front of it, Dimitri began to read its descriptive. In the years that followed Claire's death, the research laboratory had diversified its fields of new technologies. Computers hardware, files, processors… Dimitri wasn't really impressed. He only was interested in fundamental facts about wormholes.

After entering the tidy library, Dimitri greeted the professor with a hearty handshake.

"Time has come to travel through time!" Dimitri told him, a little obsessed by the word _time_.

Feeling tired, the man rolled his eyes when a beautiful, mature and self-confident woman appeared in the room. She was wearing a lab coat, a dark and creased dress with tights and a black boater with a ribbon made of white pearls. With her long, curly, blond hair and her almond-shaped eyes, she waved to the professor in charge of the laboratory.

"Carrie! Glad to see you!" He cheerfully shouted, ignoring Dimitri's question. "It's been a long time! How are you?"

"Do you really want to know the answer?" She mumbled.

"Of course not. We all miss Jake. He was my best friend."

Stunned to be facing someone who looked similar to Claire, Dimitri remembered the bright smile of his lost love. She was everything for him. He regretted her not being here because he desperately needed her comforting presence. After all, she always said the right words at the right time.

Seeing two old friends re-establishing their friendship, Dimitri swallowed and spoke in an exhausted voice.

"Excuse me for interrupting you, but I was here well before you arrived."

The other man put his hand over his mouth and whispered in Carrie's ear.

"Don't listen to this guy! He is nuts; he wants to create a time machine!"

"You're not very discreet," Dimitri added, drawing closer to him. "I've heard everything you said."

The professor did not understand why he suddenly sweated streams, but he stuttered and put his hands into his pockets. Without paying attention to him, Dimitri looked at the captivated gaze of Carrie.

"A time machine?" She asked. "I've always liked this idea. Is it really serious? I would like to help."

"Yes, I work on a project — a sort of staging — with a nice guy. To succeed, we need the best scientists in London and Bill Hawks.

"The First Minister?"

"He once worked with me on the development of a time machine. By the way, he killed the girl I love, gave the details of our machine's power source to a malevolent firm and got a lot of money before entering the political world."

With a watchful eye, Carrie put her hand on his shoulder. Dimitri's despondent look proved the weariness of his face. He seemed to have no more feelings, which affected the sensitivity of Carrie. Taking a close look to her split ends, the blond woman sighed and confided herself.

"I lost my boyfriend three years ago. We were both happy chemistry students, but Jake wanted more. He decided to have a drug trafficking and died in the wake of a suspicious business," she stopped before smiling at Dimitri. "Your project intrigues me. I don't know if I could see Jake once again, but I need to do something else in my life."

Dimitri liked her because she was sensitive, direct and expressive. Everything he wasn't. Everything he had liked in Claire's personality. Cheerfully raising her fine cheekbones, Carrie leaved her old friend and dragged Dimitri away from the laboratory. Accompanied by her, Dimitri took her back to the place he lived, where Clive was reading some of his complicated notes. His mouth wide opened when he saw them, Clive checked Dimitri's apartment. There were no feminine traces in the room. Some of Dimitri's soiled clothes were lying around on the floor and two empty cups were spilling coffee on a science fiction novel. Suddenly, Clive sniggered staring at Carrie.

"I wasn't expecting you to go out with a girl."

Dimitri sighed and replied.

"That's wrong, Clive. I've just met Carrie. She's a scientist and wants to help us with our project."

A rapturous expression on his face, Clive smiled at her.

"You really should get rid of this lab coat. It tends to make your magnificent face pale." He added, kissing softly the back of her hand. "I'm Clive."

Blushing in his presence, Carrie thanked him. As she shook her head, he touched the hand that she had unconsciously held out before listening to Dimitri.

"To begin with the project, we must find skilled scientists, mechanics, engineers and architects."

"I'll take charge of Future London. Stay focused on the scientists. Only you and Carrie can decide who are the best in this domain."

"I agree with you," Carrie affirmed. "You are lucky to have me, but every person is different from me. Other scientists wouldn't be happy to work with you on a such project!"

Smiling at the pensive look of Dimitri, Clive shrugged his shoulders and declared.

"If they don't want to bring us their invaluable help, we'll propose them some money. Without meaning to brag, I have money in reserve."

"Good idea," Dimitri praised Clive's view. "Or else, we'll bring them to Future London and let them believe that they need to build the Time Machine to return to their own time."

As they were working towards their Future London's concept, Carrie easily took part in their discussion.

"Even though I was volunteer for helping you, can I have a bit of money?"

Clive approved by nodding and approaching Carrie in a gentle way. They were exchanging smouldering looks in front of Dimitri who suddenly felt alone.

"I feel like I'm disturbing you."

"Absolutely not! I was wondering… What if we build a casino? I could learn you to play poker, Clive." Carrie suggested, her seductive eyes fixed on him.

* * *

The Gilded 7 Casino was a spectacular place looking like a huge slot machine illuminated by some beams of light. Inside, the world seemed to be reflected in gold-plated tiles. Two staircases — adorned at their ends with green decorative plants — greeted the guests; the playrooms were covered with an ocher color, which came close to bright red. With his chestnut-colored pants, his tight black top and his dark blue scarf, Clive had adopted a casual style. Pleased seeing his ideas finally materialize, he noticed a crystal chandelier in a room and his eyes lit up. Raring to reveal his speech to his henchmen, Clive suddenly recognized Carrie waiting in a corner of the room. The blond girl had curled her hair for the occasion. She was dressed in her regular lab coat and was putting her hands in her pockets, which gave her a fiercely nonchalant air. Greeting him discreetly, Carrie ordered two lagers from the bar waiter and took him to a solid wood table.

"I told you I'll explain a few things about poker?" She murmured in his ear, giving him his cold beer.

"I remember it."

Bewildered, Clive's attention turned to the colorful clay tokens of a small briefcase that Carrie proudly held.

"To shuffle the cards, we arranged them all, face down, on the table before gathering them in a pile."

With ease, Carrie deployed the cards on a bar table. Clive was looking at her, whereas she raised a charming little smile.

"The purpose of the game is to score the tokens of your opponents by composing the best combination of five cards," Carrie spoke again, enthusiastic about the game. "Before playing poker or any other card games, you have to know at least some combinations."

"I've already played it with my old friends. I remember that there were pairs and full house…"

Carrie nodded jovially.

"Yes, after, you can have specific straights. For example, the straight flush is where you have five cards of the same color. You also have the four of a kind where you have four cards of different colors and same numbers."

"You like this game, don't you?" Clive asked maliciously.

An embarrassed smile on her face, Carrie blushed thinking at the man who had once shared her life.

"I really liked playing poker with Jake. But this game also pleases me for other reasons."

In front of Clive's perplexed face, Carrie decided to answer.

"In fact, it's psychological, because you can make sure to give up your opponents during the game."

"Psychological?" Clive repeated, hypnotized by the game. "In that case, I feel that I'll really enjoy myself in this casino."

Carrie did not answer to Clive when she saw several men who looked strangely similar. Clive apologized to her and then took his henchmen to Dimitri.

"These are the men I told you about," he began. "Those who will inform us of the actions and gestures of every resident in the false London."

"Nice to meet you. Clive did well to have you come here. How are we going to call them?"

"They are the Family Goon. We all belong to a big family after all," Clive went on, firmly insisting on the word _family_.

Dimitri ended up shaking his head before following Clive on a small stage, which announced the beginning of their speech. The first that caught the attention of the people in the room was Clive.

"You have to play a crucial part in the staging that we have prepared. You'll be the mafia under the orders of Future Layton, and you'll rule with him the entire city. There will be no more polices, no more democracy. You'll be the only ones to decide the laws, but don't forget it's only a facade."

Clive suddenly stopped talking and let Dimitri take over the discussion.

"Future Layton has built a time machine. Clive, who will be in reality Future Luke, will enticed the real Professor Layton and Luke into the casino. Bostro, you would like to stop Clive and you have to make it real."

"Yes, boss," Bostro intervened.

"Clive has invested a lot in our project," Dimitri said. "And I personally want to thank him."

Dimitri turned to Clive when he slapped in a friendly way on his back.

"I did nothing else. But, thanks to your genius and your uninterrupted determination, we'll finally be able to implement a machine to travel in time."

Closing his eyes, Dimitri seemed peaceful and showed his good humor. Clive had an important place in his heart, but he couldn't afford to destroy their collaboration. For their commune success, their project was fundamental. There will be no sympathies between them.

After a few minutes, Dimitri and his main associates, Bostro, Shmeley, Shmarton and Splinters left the casino to go to the Towering Pagoda to check the riddles for the Professor Layton and Luke. Suddenly, Clive shouted into the microphone, calling out every person in the casino.

"Perfect! Dimitri's friends are gone. Now we can focus on the essential."

"The essential?" Carrie wondered, playing with one of her lock of hair. "Are you doing something behind Dimitri's back?"

A conquered smile on his attractive mouth, Clive rubbed his hands and took again the microphone to call out the rest of his henchmen.

"You've understood what Dimitri and I want, don't you? Now, let me tell you what I want."

Staring at Carrie, Clive interrupted for a moment when he began to confide himself indirectly.

"The staging of Dimitri is used to hide a time machine project, but do you know at least the risks of a such innovation? Carrie... Believe it or not, but your futile idea of taking Jake back to our present is impossible. Time travel is inhuman, a real abomination. You, scientists, like to take this project lightly… What a little stupid thing! I assure you that you're going to kill many innocent people, some parents."

Carrie's bright gaze darkened what brought her to Clive's attention, who was already smiling, proud of his next reply.

"In Future London, you only answer my orders. Tomorrow is a long day. I'll contact all of you in the morning. I want to explain you in more detail the roles you'll play in my world and of course you'll have money. A lot of money."

By noticing the reassured faces of his audience when he said the word "money", Clive wanted to jubilate. Ah… Power. It will never really stopped astonishing him. In politics and in business, the Prime Minister had also understood the importance of means. Bill Hawks resembled to a fairly simple, small man with his big Browline glasses, but his pulled-down smile and his sharpened self-centredness terribly horrified Clive. He had participated in the death of his parents and had never paid his crime. If that was not enough, he proudly continued to do a dubious business all over the country and this unique thought destroyed Clive's mental health.

"And what about Dimitri?" Lockjaw suddenly asked, curious and hurry to get Clive out of his devastating thoughts.

"Don't listen to his requirements. In any case, Dimitri is too busy with scientists for his big obsessional project... But unlike him, I'm reasonable and try to ensure everyone a fair life. Harold!" He suddenly boomed to one of his henchmen. "Do you remember what a shady Scotland Yard cop told you about the accidental death of your wife and daughter?"

In his tailor-made suit, Harold remembered the livid faces of the two women who were the most important people in his life. He rubbed his eyes under his round white glasses, whose optical lens were covered with tears, and he took the microphone that Clive gave him to express himself.

"How could I forget? At the sight of my police record, he said that I deserved what happened, that it was a right thing for the society."

"Justice," Clive added. "Here is a word I really like. I am a man able to make out the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, truth and untruth. I also have the ability to enforce the law, to make it legitimate, that means to make it justified by the reason and the common sense of everyone."

Receiving a round of applause in the entrance hall of the Gilded 7 Casino, Clive's delighted smile seemed to illuminate the gilded walls of the building. Carrie had fallen under his charms at the moment she met him. What he was doing there was simply admirable. Suffused with his self-confidence, he strongly believed in his own definition of justice. Clive greeted his famous Family Goon before approaching Carrie, expecting her to refute his thoughts.

"You know how to motivate people," she whispered, giving him an endearing smile.

"That's obvious! I'm a talented guy," he added, with a charming tone.

"Are you afraid of me? I can tell everything to Dimitri."

"You'll not say anything."

Confidently, Clive grabbed Carrie's blonde hair before slipping a bundle of notes into the back pocket of her pants. He kissed her, raised a captivating smile on his face and led her into a box room under the teasing whistling of his henchmen.

* * *

Everything was just a question of appearance. Clive thought that manipulation was his opportunity to achieve his ends by any means at all. He had to deceive his close friends and to trust only in himself. But his biological parents and Constance hadn't been like that and certainly hadn't wanted such a life for him. However, their child couldn't detach himself from his hatred, continually suffered with loneliness and dreamed of fully satisfying his desire for revenge. Clive had rapidly made a decision. He had bought the silence of some architects for his Mobile Fortress' model. His work was duty-bound to be assuredly splendid, functional and especially feasible unlike Dimitri's pathetic time machine. Against the wall of the Gilded 7 Casino, Clive gloated — smoking his cigarette nervously. The world was corrupted. Journalists, politicians, scientists, police officers… They did not understand the pain of underprivileged people.

Holding his head firmly in his hands as if he prepared himself to tear it away from his body, Clive couldn't explain why he started crying. The explanation was rather simple. He was destroyed. Dreaming of such projects brought him nothing else than madness and antipathy in his life.

"Clive?" One of his fellow partners suddenly called out to him, which stopped his destructive thoughts.

Trying to stop his crying fit, Clive vaguely greeted Fisheye before taking him in a muddy path scattered with grey stones. Robust and tall, Fisheye was an unscrupulous man who had followed Clive for many years. Suddenly, his boss inhaled some fresh air and sighed.

"Marzano is already waiting for us there."

Clive was fond of Fisheye's pragmatism and nonchalant attitude, which contrasted with Marzano's insatiable curiosity. They arrived at the place their associate was waiting for them, in a dilapidated laboratory whose doors and windows were thick metal bars. A proud dimple stood in the middle of Marzano's chin. His square jaw and his black hair on his temples made him a perfectly normal man. However, Marzano was a former alcoholic with a tragic past, and he was persuaded to have psychic powers.

"I've just understood why Carrie didn't sleep with you." Marzano teased Clive about his dismal face.

"You have a nasty habit of forgetting I always get what I am looking for."

Disconcerted by the bad temper of his boss, Marzano friendly put one of his hands on his back and whispered to him.

"You can give me your trust."

"Thank you, but I'm fine." Clive sighed, pointing at the main entrance of the building.

Inside Dimitri's laboratory, a dejected spectacle presented itself to them. Clive cried out fearfully when he noticed the small, sticky cages that enclosed wounded and bruised animals in the wake of Dimitri's scientific experiments. Covered in blood, they all had a number assigned to them. Medicines and drugs were in a large basin, which was located on a cracked table to overcome their undesirable effects. Clive let his eyes linger on a white rabbit having the number three on its label.

"Those scientists… They allow themselves to do the worst things in the world. Rabbits, parrots, humans... Do they realize at least the number of deaths their destructive inventions lead to? Look at this rabbit locked in his cage. He was separated from his family when he was only a child. He is weakened by the mortal experiences that Dimitri inflicts on him, and I know that deep inside him he just feels anger and fear."

"The life of this rabbit is strangely similar to yours." Fisheye said evasively.

Demotivated by his collaboration with Dimitri, Clive shrugged his shoulders and caught Marzano's deep, austere gaze.

"I'm loyal to you because of what you did for me."

"I know," Clive added. "I helped you when you sank into alcoholism because I needed your eternal gratitude."

"I don't believe you, Clive. Under your manipulative armour, you have a wounded heart, but a living and loving heart."

"What's happening to my buddy today? You're usually so distant with everyone…" Clive replied ironically.

"Clive… I know the outlines of your past, and you're definitely right to act that way."

With a despondent look, Clive stared at the space in front of him before sighing in a passive voice.

"I don't deserve to be loved."

"Probably. But you need to love."

"Love?"

"Yes, love someone."

Clive frowned and laughed uncontrollably, even though he did not actually find the situation funny.

"I don't like nonsense."

"That would make you happy."

Devastated by Marzano's few words, Clive imagined a happy life as a couple when he suddenly remembered Iris. Her angel face appeared in his mind. Obsessed by revenge, he had never really paid attention to her. She had been there for him. But Iris had spent four years waiting for their wedded bliss and for the first time in his life, Clive began to have regrets.

"Please… Allow me to intervene." Fisheye said. "The idea of a serious romantic relationship is just so stupid! Clive! You have to pull yourself together. Wait… Are you listening to me?"

No. Clive wasn't listening anymore.


	3. Chapter 3 - Dead-end

For their project of revenge, Clive had used to sleep occasionally at Dimitri's apartment. Their plans and ideas turned out to be more complex than expected. With an inexplicable interest in Chinatown, Dimitri had convinced Clive to insert it into their Future London, making it a vital place for Future Layton's mafia. About Carrie's situation, the young scientist enjoyed herself in their underground world because she proudly gave orders to their henchmen.

When Clive woke up, he quickly greeted Dimitri and captured his black saddlebag to pull out a contact lenses box. Under Dimitri's surprised look, Clive observed himself in a small pocket mirror. Suddenly, he slid a lens on his cornea before taking a close look to his other eye.

"You have lenses! I didn't know it!"

"My eyes especially are on fire," Clive complained, blinking his eyelids rapidly. "I'm really stupid. I shouldn't have fallen asleep without removing them."

Dimitri smiled tenderly at the sight of his flatmate who was getting out of a cheap bed, against one of the walls of the kitchen. His presence changed his life a little more every day even though he had noticed that Clive seemed much more relaxed since their speech at the Gilded 7 Casino. Dimitri shook his shoulders when he suddenly brandished a sheet of paper under Clive's still tired eyes.

"Today is the day we list the informations about our dear little targets. Don't worry! I've already profiled some of them!"

"Which ones?"

"Of course, I was raring to begin with Bill and his wife! But simultaneously, I've got detailed informations about Inspector Chelmey and Barton," Dimitri shouted, excited of this new day. "And I haven't started the two most important of them yet! Actually, I was waiting for you."

"Two? They're three."

In front of Dimitri's stunned face, Clive shrugged his shoulders and went on with his explanation.

"Professor Layton has an adopted daughter. Her name is Flora Reinhold. She's a cute girl with brown hair, and I know she won't create difficulties for us."

"Don't be so sure! We must be careful! Try getting closer to her to figure her out. After all, we don't know her past!"

"Well, if you want… But what do you say about suspecting me instead of her?" Clive gave a faint scowl, trying to provoke Dimitri who suddenly convulsed with laughter.

"You really have a great sense of humour!"

Discovering that they don't know enough about Flora, Clive decided to go to a bakery she had used to spend her time. The cake shop was pretty charming with its appetizing front window and all its likeable waiters and regular customers. To go into it, Clive started to open the wooden door when a hand stopped him. He raised his eyes to what turned to be the calm face of one of his old friends in the company of Iris. Clive's hand was trembling when he caught the black-haired girl's beautiful eyes.

"Hi Clive!" The supposed friend greeted him. "I wanted to see you! Is it a problem if Iris and I go out together?"

"No, not at all. I always thought you'll make a nice couple." He told them, with a quaver in his voice.

The close couple thanked Clive, and Iris leaved the place with a desolate smile on her lips. All alone, he suddenly hit a chair back before weeping in front of the bakery. Iris had waited too long for him. Seeking to fill his unsatisfied desire that was constantly destroying him, Clive understood he had forgotten to love her, as she deserved it.

"Why is life so unfair?"

"Life isn't fair because justice implies to make a value judgment, essentially subjective." A girl wearing her hair in a ponytail just took part in Clive's private discussion.

A lock of hair in front of her face, this young women was wearing a coral dress with a red ribbon around her waist and grey high boots. In a low voice, she murmured.

"I think we shouldn't make the world fairer. On the contrary, we must accept reality as it is, which often makes us more objective and more loving."

"You believe this is easy?" He asked, feeling better after having a weep.

"I didn't say it was easy… But it's always better than being alone, unhappy and unkind."

Her big black eyes opened widely and her soft cheeks blushed.

"I'm Flora Reinhold." She added. "When my parents passed away, I was still young. Today, I live with the Professor Layton and Luke, but they abandoned me once again."

Intimidated to show what she was made of to a stranger, Flora looked Clive in his watchful eyes before paying attention to her pencil's lead.

"Tell me, what are you doing?" He took a breath of air, in a desperate situation further to his meeting with Iris.

With a gentle smile in response, she showed him her drawing paper of a beautiful Ranunculus.

"Drawing represents so much for me. It's a pastime that relaxes me a lot."

"People have a tendency to see in the artistic activity a simple finished product. In fact, it is a hard labour mixing technique and idea to act on a given material."

"Oh, you know the Nietzsche's artistic genius!" She filled herself with enthusiasm. "Tell me… Are you a Nietzschean?"

"Not really… I don't really know… I can't gather my thoughts right now…"

Flora hadn't missed that. Even so she was naturally curious, she refrained from asking him more questions. Maybe, she was too naive and shy, but she quickly noticed that Clive looked like her. The boy seemed to never confide his fears to others, to be alone and reserved with strangers. Flora smiled at him, ordered a mint tea to a waitress and a cup of coffee for Clive.

That was crazy when they think about how time flew in each other's company.

* * *

Clive had great pleasure in debating with Flora. The girl shared her passions, expressed her opinions and spent most of her time with him ahead of delicious hot beverages. Their afternoons were now the best things in his life. In the wake of his dispute with Iris, Flora managed to put the smile back on Clive's face. He was grateful to her and liked to do the rights things for him. With a new specific aim to live as a couple with Flora, Clive did not know how to proceed with Dimitri and still helped him in their project.

After good spicy noodle soups at Pepper's Noodle Palace in future Chinatown, Dimitri and Clive went to a chic clothing shop. For their staging, they needed the clothes of Future Layton and Future Luke. In the store, there were a lot of hats, accessories and designer garments for men only. One of the first item Clive saw was a pair of tinted glasses on a shelving unit.

"These sunglasses give me an idea." He began.

"What it is about?"

"Do you remember some of the guys I show you last time?"

"Our henchmen?"

"Yes," Clive laughed. "They could eventually wear the sunglasses so as to look like the casting of The Matrix."

Dimitri grinned as he tried a top hat with a white ribbon on it.

"Not my fault! I really like it!" Clive added. "The movie is very philosophical."

Grinning at him, Dimitri nodded his head. Clive put tens of these glasses in their shopping trolley before seeing an outfit on a dummy, which was composed of a blue blazer, a tie around the collar of a white shirt and a dark red trouser.

"What do you think of it? Luke would certainly like it."

"I don't think so… This colour is petrol blue. Luke rather wears sky blue clothes. In ten years, I'm sure he'll have the same outfit than Hershel, but in blue. He'll also have his own hat. Maybe a bowler hat, a trilby or a fedora."

"Why complicate matters? But I tell you, I really like these clothes so I take them."

Dimitri shrugged his shoulders when he suddenly saw a purple-haired sales assistant coming closer to them.

"You two make a very lovely couple!" She complimented them, without any hesitation.

Stunned by her few words, Clive opened his eyes widely and just gaped at her before trying to give a quick answer.

"No way! Wait! Please don't misunderstand me! I'm fond of women, especially their stunning bodies… Yours seems to be very nice too!" Clive replied, his forehead covered in sweat.

Becoming fearful, the young woman shuddered and leaved the place. Clive turned toward Dimitri, who was laughing while holding his stomach.

"Damn it! Are you going to shut up?"

"Excuse me, but your head was just so hilarious!"

Finally, spending time with the man who killed his parents was more pleasant than expected. For once, he did not think at his plans at all and decided to help Dimitri to bring the clothes at the checkout in the store.

* * *

"I've never seen you smile this much before... Do I have to worry?" Dimitri asked, with a little teasing smile.

In Dimitri's apartment, Clive observed himself in the rectangular mirror. His facial features were naturally rising, his teeth was shining, his eyes lighting up and his cheeks slightly flushing.

"Flora has something to do with it, hasn't she?" Dimitri told, worried about the closeness of Clive to Flora.

Stammering a few incomprehensible words, Clive stared at his trembling hands and felt a strong urge to think about Flora. To hide his unease, he suddenly grasped a navy blue cap and put it on his head.

"Flora is amazing. She isn't really my kind of girls, but when I'm with her… I've the impression of…" He took a break for a moment, noticing Dimitri's embarrassed face, and continued. "I've been given a second chance."

When he began to talk about her, Clive had become more cheerful. He was conscious of his attraction to her, but Dimitri did not agree to that.

"Love makes us feel crazy. I know it," Dimitri sighed, thinking of Claire. "But here, it's different. You know the risks… She'll recognize you."

"That doesn't worry me. Layton and Luke won't run the risk of taking her to a place they don't know. Or if, on the contrary, she wants to go with them… I'll improvise. She's naive, so she'll immediately believe that I'm Future Luke."

Clive fixed his gaze on the scientist.

"She will compromise our plans." Dimitri still said.

Our plans? Before anything else, what was his plan? At that moment, Dimitri's mobile phone rang. Clive did not know if Carrie called him for his Mobile Fortress by sheer chance, but this call came as a bombshell in his fulfilled life. Clive slowly picked up the receiver and thanked Carrie for keeping him informed about his personal project. Waiting for an answer, Dimitri was looking at him with his bags under his eyes.

"Everything is ready now." Clive responded not to Dimitri, but to him before changing his clothes and leaving the apartment.

Enchained in a vicious circle of self-destruction, Clive felt trapped and realised how stupid he had been. In his minds, he repeated himself his primary objective and rapidly decided not to see her anymore. After all, he had to act with his own interests at heart and Flora was mostly an obstacle to him. His compromised sanity was deeply affecting him. When he reached the bakery, he found Flora seating on a garden table with her notebooks and yelled at her.

"We must immediately stop seeing each other!"

"Why?" She cried out in return, distraught by his words. "I... I think I felt in love with you, Clive…"

Her fixed expression and her drab big eyes were terribly heart-rending. There were things Clive would not wanted to see in his life. With a crooked grin, Clive snorted in front of her.

"Do you know at least what love means?"

"What I know is that I feel less alone when I'm with you…"

Clive did not reply to her. He only folded his arms, as he wanted to show her a nonchalant gait.

"Can I know why you don't want to see me any more?" Flora sighed.

"I have some problems to sort out."

"You don't seem yourself today." She said before gazing down at the ground.

Losing his mind again, Clive laughed uncontrollably until he decided to approach Flora to exchange a kiss with her. With just one touch, Clive made the girl happy. It was a gentle, sincere and intense kiss. But suddenly, he stopped and gave to Flora a dirty look, which make her shivering.

"I hope we'll meet again, Flora."

"Bye Clive." She accepted his decision reluctantly.

Returning to Dimitri's apartment, Clive was welling up. That moment was just so hurtful. He did not pay attention to her, was brusque in his manner and only worried about himself. When he saw Carrie and Shipley eating with their fingers some chicken curry, Clive winced and moaned.

"Could you explain to me why you're still not able to prepare yourselves for the staging?"

"Stop putting pressure on you, Clive." Carrie whispered, with an air of inflexible calmness. "Did you broke up with Flora?"

"Who told you about her?"

"Dimitri." She answered. "I'm really sorry for you, but you did the right thing for the project."

Used to be the former gardener at the Dove residence, Shipley was wearing a postman costume so as to prepare his role. Disrupted by the future events, the man simply demanded under Carrie's preoccupied eyes.

"The right thing? The Mobile Fortress? Clive… Are you sure you want to do that? Constance and your parents wouldn't agree with you about the best way to do justice."

After removing his contact lens, Clive found his black glasses, put them on and fixed Shipley with an offended look.

"It's none of your business."

Taking his fountain pen, Clive swallowed and thought about the content of his letter for the Professor Layton.

"I would explain later that I am writing to him from 10 years in the future. So… Let's begin…" Clive said, his soul in torment.

"Professor,

I hope this letter finds you well."


End file.
